


Everything Is Blue

by toomanyships_notenoughtime



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, How many ways can I describe ayatos hair, Illness, M/M, Mourning, Oneshot, implied ayakane, toukas dead btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 05:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10430343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanyships_notenoughtime/pseuds/toomanyships_notenoughtime
Summary: After her funeral, Kaneki had taken to going to the remaining Kirishima sibling for comfort.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oooh this was a roller coaster to write. I'm quite happy with how it came out even if the characters are a bit OOC. This used to be a crack ship but now it's grown on me and help who do I ship Ayato with.

It always happened like this.

Ever since Touka’s funeral, Kaneki had taken to going to the remaining Kirishima sibling for comfort. When nightmares and bouts of anxiety plagued his mind, he would throw on his trench coat over his pyjamas and wander through the night to an apartment he knew well. He would knock on the familiar door Ayato would be lying awake, the same feelings haunting his consciousness. The smell of coffee would then permeate the cold room when Kaneki made the two of them drinks from the machine Ayato never uses. They would sit side by side on the worn-down sofa and sip coffee, crouched under thin blankets that did nothing to warm them up. Kaneki would blow softly on is drink to cool it whereas Ayato would gulp down the scalding liquid, paying no attention to the blistering heat in his throat. They would remain there for hours, never saying a word until both mugs had been emptied.

When Kaneki’s empty mug finally joined Ayato’s on the coffee table, the younger boy rose from his positon and, seizing them harder than necessary, he shuffled into the small kitchen and out of sight. Kaneki remained where he was. His gaze landed on a photograph lying face down near where the mugs were. Curious, he flipped it over, and he felt his stomach drop. Two young indigo haired children were playing together among a field of poppies. His heart panged at the scene, one with a cheerful Ayato and a breathing Touka. Her failing lungs were not present in this image of pure happiness, and Kaneki found himself wishing that he could go back and live in this moment forever.

A loud smash resounded from the kitchen. _Ayato_. The white-haired boy jumped to his feet and he dashed into the kitchen. There he saw Ayato, feet surrounded by broken ceramics, hunched over his bleeding hand. Crimson liquid leaked through his fist, sliding slowly down his arm before dripping onto the floor.

‘Ayato.’

The azure haired boy turned to face Kaneki, holding his scarlet hand against his chest, and their eyes met for the first time since Ayato answered the door. Kaneki stared into those cerulean orbs, lost in pain and hopelessness. Tears began to well in the sapphire eyes locked onto his own. Ayato refused to look away, even as his lips trembled and his shoulders began to shake, unwilling to back down. His dark lashes brimmed with heavy tears, his hands clenched into shaking fists in a desperate battle against his grief.

 _‘Touka…’_ As that one word passed through his shaking lips, his walls crumbled. He wept, tears streaming from his deep blue eyes, loud, heaving sobs tearing from his throat, yet he still did not look away. Not until his sobs drove him to his knees, the shattered mugs crunching beneath him, did his gaze fall.

Kaneki slowly knelt beside him and tentatively wrapped his arms around the weeping boy. Ayato buried his head into Kaneki’s shoulder, his fist gripping his shirt desperately as he broke down, soaking his shirt with blood and tears. Kaneki held him tightly, ghosting a hand through the younger boy’s hair.

In the many times the two had sought comfort within one another, Ayato had never shed a tear. He had consoled a distraught Kaneki whenever it all became too much for the older boy. But he never cried. He kept it all locked behind the eyes that were so like his sisters in fear of shattering into a million pieces. Always hiding his weakness, always trying to forget his pain.

Always trying to forgive his sister for leaving him.

Time seemed irrelevant to them, but after some time had passed Ayato’s sobs quietened, then stopped. They remained where they were for a moment, terrified to let go, yet eventually they pulled apart. The bleeding from Ayato’s hand had slowed but Kaneki guided him back through to the sofa, and left to find a first aid kit from the bathroom. When he returned, Ayato was holding the photograph Kaneki had left on the coffee table. The boy shifted his gaze to the boy kneeling in front of him. Kaneki took Ayato's hand and gently began to clean his cut.

'Why...?' Kaneki heard the barely audible whisper escape from th other boy's lips. 'Why did she have to...'

'...I don't know...'


End file.
